Several of you sent this mess to me today and as I was reading about this Chuck Testa-approved art project I slowly laughed until my laughs turned into dry heaves. Oh, the fuckery produced by the human brain never ceases to amaze me.
When Orville, a cat belonging to Dutch artist Bart Jansen, got hit by a car and died, he wasn’t cremated and poured into a wooden box like most cats. Bart looked at Orville’s dead body and somehow decided to turn his beloved cat friend into a hovercraft pussy. I’m guessing that when Bart’s brain barfed up that thought, his mouth was placed firmly on a bong full of PCP-laced weed. Or maybe Bart was just high on art, because art is a helluva drug on its own.
The L.A. Times said that Bart used his hands to attach a propeller to each one of Orville’s paws and not once did he think he should use his hands for something more productive. You know like slapping the shit out of himself for turning his dead cat’s body into a flying toy. After Bart finished his creation called the Orvillecopter (file that under: things I can’t with), he debuted it at the KunstRai ArtFair in Amsterdam. Bart said that this what Orville would’ve wanted, because what cat wouldn’t want to be soaring through the sky with the birds?
“After that he received his wings posthumously. Now he is flying with the birds. The greatest goal a cat could ever reach!”
Orville doesn’t look like he’s happy to be flying through the sky with the damn birds. Orville looks terrified. Like he just got hit by a car. Oh wait. I don’t even know what to write about this. Is turning your dead cat into a working helicopter as crazy as turning a dead bear into a rug? Yes. Does Orville give a shit about this? Probably not, but that doesn’t make it right or okay. Think of all the tiny birds who are having tiny bird heart attacks over seeing the last sign of their rapture: an overlord hovercat. Birds are doomed when pussies can fly.
I’m making a vow that if my dog kisses the mouth of the Grim Reaper before me, I will not turn his body into a helicopter. Flying is a physical activity and my lazy dog is allergic to every physical activity, so I will not disrespect him like that. I’ll turn him into a sofa pillow instead. And if I go first, he can turn me into a bacon dispenser. See, we respect each other!